Playing to Win

“That sounds fun. Are you saying I’m invited?”


“Yes. Will you come?”

He was acting so strange. She shifted to face him. “I’d love to be there. Thank you for inviting me.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll pick you up after the game.”

“Cole, I’ll be at your game on Sunday. I can just follow you.”

“No. I’ll pick you up at your house after the game.”

“O-o-ka-ay. Whatever works best for you.”

“That works best for me.”

Now he was acting really odd. Eager and excited and also…shifting kind of uncomfortably, giving her these expectant looks. She didn’t know what to make of it.

“Is something wrong?”

He gave her a quick glance, then returned his focus to the road. “No. Why?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all.”

She was reading too much into it. Her own discomfort, likely.

It was the whole kids thing. And her feelings about Cole, which were growing more intense every day. She didn’t know what to do about them—about him, or how she felt for him.

She’d always prided herself on being able to handle any situation, but this was new territory for her. She’d never planned to get involved with Cole at all, let alone fall in love with him. Not that she had an inkling of what love was all about.

Or what she was going to do about it now that she realized she was in love with him.

The mere thought of it scared her to death.





NINETEEN




IT WAS THE FIRST GAME OF THE SEASON. COLE WAS NO rookie, so this should be business as usual, but his stomach was tied up in knots as he and the rest of the team took the field.

New team jitters, probably. And the chance to do this all over like it was the first time for him.

Maybe it was a first time. Clean slate and all that shit. New image, fresh start, and a chance to show everyone he’d changed. He intended to focus on football, and keep the dramatics off the field this season.

The stadium was packed. It was a sellout and the fans roared when the Traders came out. Cole didn’t even try to block the sounds of the fans. He soaked it all in, drawing the energy of the crowd as he did his warm-ups, then took his spot on the sidelines with his teammates.

Kenny Lawton looked wide-eyed and a little sick. Cole grinned, remembering his own rookie year. He’d been so damn scared during that first game. He knew exactly how the kid felt, so he walked over to him to give him a pep talk.

“You’re going to see some action today, Lawton.”

“You think so? I know I did in preseason, but this is an actual game. They’re not gonna play me.”

“Coach Tallarino is known for getting his rookies in the game right out of the gate. You’ll take at least a pass or two. Best way to get over those jitters.”

“I’m not jittery.”

Yeah, not much. The kid was dancing around from foot to foot, and it was August and they were in a domed stadium, so he wasn’t moving around to keep warm. Kenny looked like he might pee his pants any second. Cole slapped him on the back of the helmet. “You’re going to kick some serious ass, Lawton.”

“Thanks. I just hope I don’t drop the ball.”

“There’s a secret to that.”

The kid looked up at him with serious brown eyes. “What’s the secret?”

“Don’t drop the ball.” Cole winked and Kenny laughed, then blew out a breath and dropped his shoulders.

“Okay, man, I’ll try to relax.”

“You do that.” He put his arm around Kenny’s shoulder. “Take this all in. It’s your rookie year, your first game. This is only going to happen once. Enjoy it.”

They watched the kickoff. Miami returned it twelve yards, and it was game on. Defense was solid, so Miami punted after their first possession, and it was time for the Traders to take the field. First two plays had the running backs in, and they gained a first down. Davis and Fields went in on the first pass play on second down and short yardage. Fields caught the ball on a slant and picked up an additional four yards, gaining them another first down. After a couple runs and a successful shovel pass that netted fourteen yards, they were at midfield and Cole was in.

He took his position to the left, mindful of the Miami defenders. When the ball was hiked, he ran a post pattern, pushing past the cornerback. He turned and the ball hit him right in the numbers—he loved Grant Cassidy’s throwing accuracy. But he went down when the safety slammed into him, so he only gained ten yards. If he’d managed to break free, there would have been nothing but the goal line ahead of him.

But at least they’d gotten another first down.

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